


Entwined

by xXdark_moonXx



Series: Summer [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Board Games, Connor is a Good Boy, Date Night, Deviant!Connor, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Post peaceful revolution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26538148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdark_moonXx/pseuds/xXdark_moonXx
Summary: It seems nights in are yours and Connor’s specialty.
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader
Series: Summer [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881727
Comments: 5
Kudos: 71





	Entwined

**Author's Note:**

> Another one finally :’) hope y’all enjoy! This didn’t go at all the way I thought it would, but I like how it turned out in the end!

You hop up the steps, looking around at the simple, yet beautiful architecture of the apartments. The fact that there was an entire complex built specifically for androids makes you smile—a lot has happened since the revolution two years ago. After checking you have the apartment number correct, you knock on the door, excitement fluttering in your chest. 

“Hello,” Connor says, beaming as he opens the door. 

“Connor!” You throw your arms around his neck in a tight hug. His arms immediately wrap around you, holding you close for a moment. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, how are you?” You ask as you step back. After that stormy night and your newfound couple status, things had gotten busy at the DPD. You’ve been able to meet up with Connor for the occasional walk at the park, but it’s been a while since you had a proper date.

“I’m doing well. Please, come in,” he says, guiding you in with a hand on the small of your back. “How are you doing?” 

You turn to face him as he closes the door, kicking off your shoes. “Pretty good! I finished the painting I’ve been working on, I just need to find someone to buy it.” 

“I’m sure someone will,” Connor says confidently, “you’re a very talented artist.“ You blush at the compliment. “Also, a lot of people like dogs. That increases the appeal by a considerable amount.” 

You laugh, shaking your head. “Very true. Most of the commissions I get are animals, mostly pets. Or wolves,” you muse, looking around Connor’s apartment. If you thought yours was small, his was _tiny._ A small kitchen area takes up the right half, sectioned off by a bar top; and there’s a living area on the left, complete with a TV, couch, coffee table, and several bookshelves. The small space doesn’t feel cramped, however—it’s cozy, and meticulously organized in a way that _screams_ Connor. 

“Wolves _are_ quite majestic,” Connor says thoughtfully, moving past you into the kitchen. “They’re an excellent subject for a painting.” You watch as he turns off the stove, taking a pot off of the heat. You suddenly notice the smell of pasta.

“Are you cooking?” You question, leaning over the counter. 

“Well, yes,” Connor says, looking over his shoulder at you. He has a smirk on his face. “I invited you over for dinner. That usually requires food being made.” 

“Whoah there, dial back the sass, mister,” you tease. Connor chuckles good-naturedly. “I just thought you’d, I dunno, order something.” Guilt tugs at your chest. “You didn’t have to cook for me, especially since you don’t even eat.” 

Connor pours the pasta out onto a plate—it’s covered in Alfredo sauce, and mixed with broccoli and what looks like, bacon? “I know. But, I wanted to,” he says, placing the plate in front of you. Ugh, his little smile makes you melt. How did you deserve this man? “Besides, I read several articles that said homemade food is better than takeout. And healthier.“ He raises his eyebrows at the last point. 

“You got me there,” you mutter, though your mouth is watering. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until now. _Goodness gracious,_ you think as you take a bite. “Where on _earth_ did you learn to cook?” You ask in between mouthfuls. 

Connor pulls up a stool to sit beside you. “I found this particular recipe online, though I also downloaded some software for the actual process,” he explains. “Do you like it?” 

“I can never eat anything else ever again,” you groan, taking another bite. 

“I’ll have to cook for you more often, then,” Connor laughs, beaming at your praise. The conversation lulls until your plate is clean. 

“That was the best food I’ve ever eaten,” you say, almost in a whine. Connor straightens, moving to take your plate. “Connor,” you say urgently, grabbing his arm, “please kiss me.” 

Connor blinks in surprise, but he leans in slightly as your hand runs up his arm, and you press your lips to his. Connor’s hands find your hips as you kiss him again, more deeply. “I take it you enjoyed it?” He says against your lips. 

“You’re the best boyfriend a girl could have,” you sigh happily, kissing his cheek as he takes your plate. 

“If I’d known it was that easy to gain your affection, I would have cooked for you sooner,” Connor smirks as he rinses off your plate. You giggle, leaning on your hand. As you watch him, a question comes to your mind. 

“Why do you even have a kitchen? Isn’t this complex built for androids?” You ask, sitting up slightly. 

“Yes,” Connor says, drying his hands. “Some apartments don’t have kitchens, but I thought having one would be helpful for when I have company. It’s also good for storage,” he continues, opening a cupboard to reveal pouches of blue blood, along with other bio components. “And I have a toilet in my bathroom, also for when I have human company.” 

“Huh, yeah, that’s pretty handy,” you hum. “So, what else did you have planned for the evening?” 

“Popular activities for dates at home include board games or movies,” Connor replies, and you follow him into the living area. “I have an assortment of both.” 

“You have board games?” You ask, taking a seat on the couch. 

Connor nods, pulling a few boxes from the shelves under the television. “I purchased a few, after researching what was popular. Scrabble, Monopoly, Clue,” he places the games down on the coffee table as he names them, “and also a deck of cards for card games.” 

You ponder over the games a moment, but notice he left a box on the shelf. “What about that one?” 

Connor looks back at the box, taking it out and examining it. “This one is usually marketed towards children...” he says sheepishly. 

“Those are the best ones!” You interject, sliding off the couch to kneel across from him, snatching the box from his hands. The first thing you notice are the silhouettes of people in strange positions, and then the the brightly colored circles. “You got... Twister?”

“I thought it could be fun,” Connor begins slowly, wringing his hands.

“Are you kidding? We’re playing this,” you grin, opening the box. “Besides, you’d beat me at all of those other games with your supercomputer brain. At least with this one I have a _chance_ of winning.” 

Connor tilts his head, eyes narrowing skeptically. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he hums, smiling at your scandalized gasp. 

“Excuse you, I am a Twister _champion,”_ you huff, putting a hand on your chest.

“I believe you,” Connor says earnestly, raising his hands, _“but,”_ he smirks, “you’ve never played against an android.” 

You glare at him. You know for a fact that Connor will probably beat you, since he had exceptional endurance as an android. But you‘re a _winner,_ dang it, and your pride won’t let you back down. “It doesn’t matter if you’re an android,” you sniff, standing and opening the folded mat, _“I’m_ going to win. Now help me move your coffee table.” 

Connor gets to his feet and pushes the table against the wall, and you spread out the colorful plastic sheet on the carpet. “Normally there’s a player who spins the spinner,” Connor says, holding up the cardboard square.

“We can just set it to the side and spin it,” you reply, waving your hand. Connor nods and sets the spinner down. “Okay, you ready?” You ask, crouching down. 

Connor mimics your position. “Ready.”

You grin slyly. “May the best man win.”

A few minutes later, the game has yet to end. You pant with effort, frowning as you slide your foot over to the red circle, which ends up wedging you half under Connor. He’s in a sort of crab-walk position, watching you struggle with a calm, albeit amused expression. 

“The spinner’s getting us nowhere,” you huff. “Just start saying random colors now. Up the difficulty.”

“Are you sure? You’re shaking.” Connor’s concerned question is nulled by his cheeky smirk. This android has the nerve to tease you?!

You stick your tongue out at him, attempting to stop your arms from trembling. “Just do it, jerk.”

“Very well.” Connor’s LED cycles yellow. “Right foot to green.” You sigh as you move your right foot behind you, effectively moving out from under Connor. He adjusts with much more grace than you. “Left foot to green.” You both shift.

“I said to make this _more_ difficult, not _less,”_ you accuse, though you’re secretly grateful for the break. 

“I’m putting all possible outcomes through a generator to give a random outcome,” Connor explains, shrugging. “It must just be a coincidence.“ His innocent expression makes you suspicious, but you can’t argue with his logic. 

“I guess. What’s the next one?” 

“Right hand to yellow.” You grin to yourself. You _could_ just move your hand over a spot, but where’s the fun in that? You prep yourself, then reach over Connor’s torso, trapping him with your arms. He raises his eyebrows, looking down at you. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making it more challenging,” you say, tilting your head. “What’s the next color?” 

Connor’s mouth opens and closes, his brow furrowing. “Left hand, to blue,” he stammers. You move your other arm over him, and now you’re making a little bridge over his stomach. With a smirk, you lay down on him, still keeping a little weight on your hands and feet. Connor dips, then adjusts for your weight. “That’s not allowed!” He frowns, LED flashing yellow.

“What? I’m not doing anything,” you say innocently, leaning onto him more. 

“Right hand to green,” Connor says suddenly, and his sudden shift almost makes you lose your balance. He somehow manages to trap you, arms on either side of you and legs still supporting your weight. _Show off._

“Random outcome, huh?” You laugh quietly, arms trembling to hold yourself up while still trying to face him. 

“This one may have been... intentional,” Connor murmurs, leaning forward slightly. You bite your lip as he studies you. “You still have Alfredo sauce on your face,” he says with a small smile. You can feel his breath on your lips. “Let me help.”

You relax slightly as your lips meet. Connor’s mouth moves carefully against your own—slow and curious. You want desperately to run your hands through his hair. Connor presses deeper against you, and your knees turn to jelly as his tongue swipes your bottom lip. He pulls away just as quickly, and you hear him whisper something, pulling you out of your haze.

“Hm?” You murmur. Connor pulls his leg out from under you, and your arms buckle, causing you to fall back onto the mat with a gasp. 

“Left foot to red,” Connor says, looking down at you triumphantly. You gape up at him, too utterly shell-shocked to move. “Looks like I win.” Connor gives you a cheeky smirk, tilting his head

You sputter, propping yourself on your elbows. “You—you cheated!” 

Connor leans down again, kissing your cheek. “I suppose that makes us even, then.” 

“What I did was different,” you grumble. “I don’t have anything on my face, do I?” 

“You did. In fact,” Connor’s lips brush against yours, “I think I missed a spot.” 

You giggle as he kisses you again. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t hoped the game would end this way.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for part 2!! The night isn’t over yet :)


End file.
